


Untitled

by orphan_account



Category: Lord of the Rings RPF
Genre: Comment Fic, Community: comment_fic, Drugs, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-05-23
Updated: 2010-05-23
Packaged: 2017-10-09 16:16:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 459
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/89295
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Written for Comment Fic. Prompt from galor5: Viggo/Karl, smoking pot</p>
    </blockquote>





	Untitled

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Comment Fic. Prompt from galor5: Viggo/Karl, smoking pot

What had been a roaring fire hours before was now nothing more then a few smoldering logs that were holding on to the last bits of smoke and flame that they could. Everyone had fallen asleep except for Viggo and Karl and neither cared enough about the chill in the air to do anything about it. They were comfortably seated on the ground, pressed together from shoulder to folded knee to foot, and there was a sense that any sudden move would disrupt the perfect feeling of peace flowing between and around them.

 

Conversation had died as gradually as the fire had and for the past half hour they had done nothing more then pass Viggo's pipe between them, pausing only once so that Viggo could refill it. Karl had taken that silent pause to study Viggo, noting the intensity the man showed to something as simple as cleaning the pipe of the burned out bud and putting the fresh, green pile of herb he had carefully separated in. Karl's hand found its way to the back of Viggo's neck, curling through the messy tangle of hair there, and was rewarded with a brief kiss to his wrist before Viggo went back to work. Karl's hand stayed curled around Viggo's neck and when the packed pipe was placed in his free hand he saw that Viggo had his lighter out and ready so that Karl only needed the one hand to inhale the relaxing cloud of smoke into his mouth.

 

As the contents of the pipe turned from green to black their bodies found new and subtle ways to mold together, arms folding across the other's back and legs pressed so tightly together the dark of their jeans blended together. Finally there was nothing left to smoke and it was Viggo's tongue and not the pipe that pressed its way between Karl's lips, filling his mouth with the smell and taste of pot and so much more. Viggo tasted like adventure and promise. He tasted more like New Zealand then any natural born citizen of the country Karl had ever known.

 

Karl had smoked a lot of pot in his life but he'd only ever kissed one man and it was those kisses that made the night feel infinite. It was sword-callused hands pushing him down to the ground and finding their way into his jeans as their friends slept unaware around them that made every color still visible under the light of the stars and moon seem brighter and more beautiful. And when he gasped out as silently as possible into his lover's mouth and spilled his release into his lover's hands Karl felt a deeper and more perfect sense of bliss then any drug could give him.


End file.
